i'm ready for combat

"pete–" he laughs, "i have no experience meetin' the parents." a shake of his head, "but i'll do my best." peter pulls him in, and heat climbs up noah's cheeks. of course it does. how'd he get lucky enough to do this anyways. "i know – she's like – practically a celebrity to me." a grin, "i'm excited t' meet her. even if i'm spiraling a little about it."

peter's smile softened, and he reached for noah's hands. "we can leave whenever you want, by the way. it's fine." a beat. "by the way, i just want you to know that i'm pretty sure she's been SPYIN' on us through the window this whole time."

jude blinked at him once, then twice, looking genuinely OFFENDED by the question despite the fact that he absolutely deserved it. “okay, first of all, i love the judgment. really. HUUUGE fan of a man who walks into a room and immediately makes me feel like i’ve committed a felony with a honda.” they leaned back in the chair like that might make them look less guilty, one hand lifting in a helpless little flourish. “second of all, i don’t know what brake pads are supposed to sound like when they’re dying. i thought cars made noises. that’s kind of their WHOLE thing, isn’t it? engine goes vroom, mysterious metal screaming happens, little light turns on to keep you humble.” his mouth twitched, because peter was hot, which was deeply inconvenient, and jude had NEVER once known how to act normal under pressure. “in my defense, i’m a music producer. if it makes a horrible sound, usually i just EQ it until it stops ruining my life.”

he barked out a laugh immediately, folding his arms over his chest. “hey, i’m not the mechanic people go to for sugar talkin’,” he couldn’t help the incredulous laugh that escaped him. “if you’re comin’ to me, it’s ‘cause i’m good at what i do.” he held up another finger, grinning wide, mimicking their counting. “second, i probably woulda come ‘ere when they started squeakin’ right away.” a beat. “that shit is fucked UP back there,” he thumbed toward the garage. peter probably would’ve been more annoyed by the sheer insanity of the situation if jude wasn’t fucking hot. and the hair? killer. “producer, huh?” his eyebrow twitched. “so you probably let it get fucked up to record the sound or some shit, right?” peter let his gaze drag slowly up and down them, then shook his head. “lucky for you, we got the parts to replace this shit right away.” he tilted his head. “you got two hours?”

“oh, don't try that shit with me.” jude pointed immediately when peter planted both hands on the table, cackling. “you had to physically relocate your arms because i called you a divorced dad. that's not helping your case, peter. that's making MY case for me.” his grin only widened at the memory comment. “yeah, man, that's how best friends work. i've known you since we were BOTH ugly little gremlins. of course i remember your exact wording.” a beat. “also, for the record, you saying i wasn't built for cold weather is basically proving my point. that's you admitting i've always required special care and accommodations.” jude pressed a hand to their chest dramatically. “'get a jacket,' he says, after twenty years of personally making sure i had one. you're such a nurturing provider. it's beautiful to watch.”

“i moved my arms because i knew exactly where this conversation was headed,” peter shot back immediately. “that's called pattern recognition, jude. it's a SURVIVAL skill.” he was already laughing, though, which really ruined whatever dignity he was trying to maintain. he absolutely was trying not to look like a divorced fucking sad. “and first of all, i was a cute little gremlin. don't act like you came out of the womb lookin' like a disney princess.” he pointed at him accusingly. “i remember middle school. you had that haircut.” a beat. “you know the one.” the grin on his face widened when jude clutched his chest. “special care and accommodations?” peter echoed. “oh, fuck off. you act like i was nursing an injured bird. i told you to wear a jacket because every year it'd hit forty degrees and you'd start actin' like you were about to meet god.” another beat. “which, for the record, you still do.” peter snorted. “and i'm not nurturing. you're just catastrophically bad at taking care of yourself sometimes.” he pointed at themagain. “there's a difference. if i see somebody trying to stick a fork in an electrical outlet, i'm gonna stop them too. doesn't mean i'm their provider.” his smile turned smug. “although it is really interestin’ that your brain immediately went there. sounds like you're projectin' somethin', morrigan.”

[REBOOT] (x)

"thank fuckin' god." his grin is bright, despite his own nerves. "oh, good. you should." a beat, "because i've got cte an' i can't be trusted."

"baby," he laughed. "she's barely five feet tall. n' i wouldn't want you to meet her if i thought it was gonna go all fuckin' sideways n' shit, okay?" peter pulled him in closer and pressed a kiss against his forehead. "it means a lot you said yeah, by the way. to meetin' her." a beat. "thanks." noah knew how much peter loved his mom.

jude went quiet for a second after that. not because he didn’t have an answer, but because he had TOO MANY. their thumb dragged along the rim of their coffee cup, eyes fixed somewhere past peter instead of on him. “yeah,” he said eventually, voice softer than usual. “i think there’s probably a version of us somewhere that figured it out WAY earlier. one where we didn’t keep missing each other by, like, half an inch every time.” a small laugh escaped them then, tired around the edges. “maybe there’s a universe where i kissed you when i was SUPPOSED to instead of pretending i didn’t want to.” he finally looked at him after that; really looked at him. “but i think about this one more.” jude leaned back into the couch, jaw tightening for a second before he admitted, “because even when we fuck it up, i still end up back HERE with you anyway.”

hearing that cracked something open in his chest. not in a way that hurt. if anything, it felt like relief. warmth spread through him, easing something he'd been carrying around for so long he'd forgotten it was there. he settled onto the couch beside jude, resting his head against his hand. “so you ADMIT you wanted to kiss me for a long time, huh?” there was a smile in his voice. soft and teasing. he could get away with it now because jude knew – absolutely knew – that he'd wanted the same thing right back. “i like this one too,” he said quietly. for a moment, he just sat there, letting himself enjoy it. then he huffed out a laugh. “you know, i think dan would've figured it out eventually.” his thumb caught between his teeth for a second before he let it go. “lottie did. feels like younger siblings have some weird sixth sense for this kinda thing. fuckin’ annoying.”

"Oh? There are levels?" Whitaker teases, a subtle grin curling the ends of his lips. There's a glimmer in his eyes at the mention of Nebraska, like somebody might finally understand him for all he is. "Nebraska? Really? What part?" Gentle prodding, his arms crossed carefully at his chest.

"yeah, sure are." he threw his hands up, smirking. "dunno if we're at level five YET, but i could throw you a bone. omaha." peter tilted his head, eyebrows raised at the smile curled on the other's lips. "now you gotta tell me where you're from."

for a second, jude forgot how to breathe. not because of the kiss — though that CERTAINLY didn't help. it was the words. the terrifying simplicity of them. i really like you. i really wanna give this a shot. and all the noise in his head seemed to short-circuit at once. a laugh escaped them, disbelieving and warm, and they let their forehead stay pressed against peter's. "yeah?" he asked quietly, even though he'd heard him perfectly. maybe they just wanted to hear it again. his hands settled at peter's waist without thinking. familiar. easy. they'd touched each other a THOUSAND different ways over the years — shoving each other, wrestling on couches, throwing arms over shoulders after too many drinks — but this felt entirely different. somehow smaller and bigger at the same time. "good," they murmured. "because i really like you too. which is honestly ANNOYING as hell, considering you've spent the last ten years being the human equivalent of a head injury." that earned a grin before it softened into something more vulnerable. his thumb brushed absentmindedly against peter's side. "and for the record? lottie figured it out years ago." another quiet laugh. "your mom probably did too. we're not NEARLY as subtle as we thought we were." their gaze dropped briefly before finding peter's again. "but yeah. i wanna do this. for real this time." the admission sat between them for a moment before jude shook his head and groaned dramatically. "also, your mom is ABSOLUTELY gonna make this about her somehow. i'm already preparing for that conversation."

“god forbid jude morrigan like someone,” he laughed, pulling him impossibly closer. god. peter didn't really know what to do with all the feelings rattling around in his chest, but he'd figure it out. he usually did. “'n what the fuck do you mean, the human equivalent of a head injury?” he pulled back just enough to arch a brow at him, frowning. “if anyone's the human equivalent of a head injury, it's fuckin' you, jude.” the accusation didn't have much bite behind it. not when he was smiling like that. he sighed, shaking his head as heat crept up the back of his neck. “yeah, she's fuckin' smart. i knew she was actin' weird the last time i saw her.” a laugh slipped out. “kept tellin' me i had to go kiss someone 'cause i was apparently actin' weird too. wouldn't tell me why, either. just kept givin' me that look.” thinking about it now made him feel a little stupid. and a little fond. mostly fond. his gaze dropped for a second before finding jude's again, something softer settling there. vulnerable. real. “so what do you want me to call you, huh?” he asked. “boyfriend? partner? little minion?” he immediately started laughing before wincing. “god, she is gonna yell at us, though. i can already hear it my mom’s voice yellin’ at us in korean.”